


Doesn't Matter

by ravinilla



Category: VIXX
Genre: Blood, First Aid, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, M/M, Minor Violence, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 08:24:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7525498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravinilla/pseuds/ravinilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And they're all exhausted, but only Sanghyuk, who's on the verge of passing out, is asking the real questions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doesn't Matter

Wonsik's final punch swung through the air and connected with a goosebumps-inducing _crack_. The last asshole fell to the floor and he gasped out, stumbling back. Around him were the sounds of panting and pained groans; the sounds of a fight well finished.

Pulling himself straight, he looked at Taekwoon and Sanghyuk. They looked just as wrecked as he did—covered in sweat, grime, and blood; all three of them had clearly been through the ringer and were spent.

Sanghyuk laughed though, almost wildly. He threw an arm around Wonsik's shoulder and leaned all onto him, "Oh _man,"_ he said breathlessly, and his eyes were blown from the adrenaline. Wonsik could feel him trembling. "Never seen a group of guys stay on their feet so long. I thought we weren't gonna make it!"

Wonsik could sympathize. He was ready to collapse then and there.

Of his usual stoic self, Taekwoon wobbled over to them. He had an unfamiliar phone in his hands and typed on it a few long moments before tossing it onto one of the aching bodies.

"Did you send pics?" Sanghyuk cackled. Taekwoon nodded. "That'll teach them."

Taekwoon bent down to tear off fabric from the shirt of a guy Sanghyuk knocked out with a head kick and then used it to wipe at their sweat drenched faces.

"Alright _mom,"_ Sanghyuk rolled his eyes, but didn't swat his hands away.

Taekwoon cupped their cheeks with the gentlest touch; like his palms and fingertips weren't calloused from the ruckus the three of them caused twenty-four/seven. Wonsik couldn't help nuzzling into the touch. He reached up himself to swipe his thumb at the blood on Taekwoon's split lip.

"Whose house are we going to?" Sanghyuk asked, teetering with the need to collapse.

"Mine," Wonsik half said, half yawned. "You guys alright to walk? I could probably give one of you a piggy back ride and not die on the way there." Sanghyuk laughed tiredly and Taekwoon snorted.

The way Sanghyuk grabbed at his shoulders said he would hop on, but even the thought of carrying the giant younger one had his body screaming in exhaustion.

"Here," Taekwoon offered instead, squatting just a little, "I'll carry you." he told Sanghyuk. Wonsik grinned at him gratefully.

Sanghyuk moved, laughing, "Hyung, I'm surprised you could even hold your own, you old man. Now you're gonna carry me?" he teased—though the both of them know Taekwoon could be the scariest of them, especially with professionally trained skills under his belt. Despite that, Sanghyuk sluggishly mounted him. Taekwoon grunted under the new weight.

"Sure you got it?" Wonsik worried, wishing he would've soldiered on to carry their maknae instead. Taekwoon spared him a lackadaisical look in return, to which Wonsik shrugged at.

The three of them trekked from the empty lot behind a few old buildings and turned in the direction of Wonsik's apartment. Wonsik was sure his mom wasn't home since she worked nights, and they didn't have to worry about his sister because she was spending the weekend at a friend's house.

"When'd your house get so faaaar," Sanghyuk whined, nosing into Taekwoon's shoulder.

"Shut up," Wonsik heaved, "you're not even walking, why're you complaining?"

"Shut up," Sanghyuk mocked, "you're not even carrying me, how come you're telling me to shut up?"

"That's not what I said."

"Oh my god," Taekwoon mutters under his breath, effectively shutting them both up.

The rest of the way there is them talking about the guys they fought and their best moves of the night. Sanghyuk bragged about how he put one in a head lock with his thighs and made him pass out. Taekwoon said one had a knife but now said knife was in his pocket. Wonsik really just remembered blurs; blurry faces, the scenery blurring around him, his fists blurs in front of him.

He sighed.

"Are we there yet?" Sanghyuk complained.

He sighed again, more tiredly.

They finally got there some twenty minutes later. Wonsik didn't know how he made it up the stairs. Taekwoon almost threw Sanghyuk off because just climbing up them would have been too much.

He struggled to focus on unlocking the door, wiping sweat from stinging his eyes. The first few times failed and he wanted to pound the door down or sleep outside. Taekwoon gently took the key from him and opened it himself.

"Thanks," Wonsik muttered, staggering inside.

In his utter exhaustion, he bumped into several things before successfully finding the light switches and flicking them on. Sanghyuk and Taekwoon were right behind him. The three of them lurched onto the couch, practically falling all over each other. Wonsik's head was pillowed awkwardly on Taekwoon's chest, Taekwoon's thigh was lodged between Sanghyuk's legs, and Sanghyuk's legs were folded around Wonsik's hips.

"It's too hot for this . . ." Taekwoon muttered.

"We need the first aid kit . . ." Wonsik groaned.

"I'm not getting back up . . ." Sanghyuk huffed.

It went quiet.

They laid there, stuffed on each other, limbs tangled, probably dripping blood onto one and other too. No one said anything, but it was rare they did. They all had their issues—but despite being the closest anyone could ever be, they hardly ever talked any of it out; they'd just be out together a lot, and if a fight happened, a fight happened. That was just how it was.

"Feel like I'm about to panic . . ." Taekwoon breathed, and that was Sanghyuk and Wonsik's cue get off him. "I'll get the first aid kit." he amended, hauling himself up from the couch and trudging to the bathroom.

Wonsik turned to Sanghyuk. He brushed short dark hair from his face, "You alright?"

Sanghyuk's eyes were closed and he didn't bother to open them while he hummed assent. His head rolled down to lay on Wonsik's shoulder.

Taekwoon returned a few moments later, moving around the coffee table and plopping onto it. He opened the plastic white case and dug around for peroxide and cotton swabs.

"Hyukie first," Wonsik sighed, barely able to move his lips. He shifted the other to sit up and propped him forward.

With familiar fingers, Taekwoon began to work at cleaning Sanghyuk's face. Wonsik watched his fingers glide around, tired but thorough, as he played with the him of Sanghyuk's shirt himself.

"Hey," Sanghyuk said languidly, though he paused and they wondered if he would continue. "Are we always gonna be like this?"

Wonsik didn't miss Taekwoon's ministrations faltering. "Be like what?" he asked, rolling over to look at the popcorn ceiling.

"I'unno . . ." Sanghyuk slurred, drifting off by the second. "I'unno, I jus' . . . Feel like we're always fuckin'shitup . . ."

Wonsik couldn't help but slip Taekwoon a glance; his face was creased with a sort of tautness he couldn't read well. Sanghyuk was all but out by the time he finished bandaging his face.

He pulled back and looked to Wonsik. "Your turn," he murmured.

Wonsik sighed and dragged himself forward, making sure not to disturb Sanghyuk. Taekwoon's gentle fingers began to work at his face. He winced now and then at the sting of the alcohol but otherwise sat still, more interested in studying Taekwoon's expression.

"You alright?" he finally asked.

Taekwoon hummed, peeling open bandaids.

"Taekwoon," Wonsik coaxed in song; Taekwoon was avoiding both his gaze and answering.

At the point where he'd had enough, Wonsik captured Taekwoon's busybody wrists.

"m'Not done," Taekwoon muttered almost dejectedly.

"It can wait."

"Your bleeding hasn't stopped yet."

"Just look at me."

It took him a long moment, but Taekwoon finally met his tired, even gaze. His eyes were glazed and his wrists were weak and trembling in his hold. He looked away. Wonsik sighed.

"It's your turn." he said, reaching for the first aid kit. Taekwoon didn't move to stop him.

He wasn't anywhere as graceful or gentle as Taekwoon, but for all his clumsiness with delicate tasks, there wasn't a single complaint. He eventually stood to pull Taekwoon's shaggy black hair from his face, and then tilted his head up to work from there despite his legs begging him to sit back down.

He smoothed his fingers over the last bandaid. Taekwoon tried to take the kit back, but Wonsik stopped him and shook his head. "You look real tired."

Taekwoon shook his head too, "You interrupted me. I wasn't finished."

They stared each other down, both ready to tumble on the ground despite being dead tired—and then Sanghyuk snored, loud and obnoxious, rolling over and trying to cuddle into Taekwoon's lap. Both of them sighed.

"We should get to my room." Wonsik suggested, closing the kit without being finished up. "I think I can pick him up. When'd he get so big anyway . . ."

Between the both of them, they managed to lug Sanghyuk to Wonsik's room and settled him on the bed without disturbing him much; he slept like the dead anyway. Neither bothered to change from their scraggy clothes and settled on either side of Sanghyuk.

Wonsik could still taste blood in his mouth and the ghost of adrenaline skulked through his veins. He wondered if Taekwoon's mind was both wired and worn like his. He could feel his hand graze against his bruised arm when Taekwoon laid his own across Sanghyuk's body.

"Probably not." he whispered out of nowhere.

"Hmm . . . ?" Wonsik wondered, mind slowly fading away.

"We probably won't always be like this." he said.

Though half of Wonsik was gone, a double meaning came out of Taekwoon's words; one that he thought was right and the other that terrified him. He forced himself to breath out evenly.

"Doesn't matter," he finally replied. He pat his hand around to grab Taekwoon's. Their fingers laced in the dark over Sanghyuk's chest. "Doesn't matter." he repeated, like he might be trying to convince himself. His throat threatened to close up.

Taekwoon squeezed his hand and sighed, finally relaxed. ". . . Doesn't matter." he repeated too.

Wonsik closed his eyes and listened to the breathing of his two favorite people next to him. Sleep tugged at his mind, and he decided right then that nothing else mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> Crossposted from my [writing tumblr](http://homoerotixx.tumblr.com/). Thanks for reading!


End file.
